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Updated: May 29, 2025
Stan kicked the Mustang wide open. No use trying to save gas by holding cruising speed. He had to get away from that coast. The Mustang knifed ahead and Stan bent forward as the air-speed indicator rolled up to just under four hundred miles per hour. There was no more boost and he longed for the dual supercharger.
"We will have lunch at a café downtown today," Herr Domber said without the flicker of an eye. "I have a special café in mind where the sea food is excellent and the wine very choice." "That will be fine," Stan said and grinned as he hoisted himself up into the ship. He lay inside the fuselage and looked at the supercharger. There was one valve which he had not fitted.
Stan climbed down out of the cockpit. He faced Herr Domber. "Just what was it you wanted me to do?" He had to stall for time, more time. "You will assemble and repair the supercharger on that plane. Every tool you need will be at hand, and if you need an assistant I will furnish you one who speaks English." Herr Domber was smiling as he spoke. "That's a big order," Stan said.
Its silver shafts penetrated the hanging mist-stratas. The surface of the Nares Sea was visible dark and sullen looking. I shifted the angles of incidence of the wings, re-set my propeller angles and made the necessary carburetor adjustments, switching on the supercharger which would supply air at normal zero-height pressure to the carburetors throughout my descent. I swung over Nareda.
Hans made off and while he was gone Stan did a few things to the supercharger. Hans came back quickly. "Herr Domber will call for you," he said, then seated himself and lighted a cigarette. Domber appeared a half-hour later, dressed in evening clothes. He was beaming. "You have everything ready for a tryout in the morning?" he asked. "Everything," Stan assured him.
"I am a student of the human mind. When I have studied a man I know just about what he will do. I know you do not wish to be turned over to the Gestapo and given the treatment they use to get information." "No, I guess I'm not that much of a hero," Stan said. As Stan worked on the supercharger he went over his plans carefully.
"I must have a look at the machine," Domber said. He walked to the bench and spent a half-hour studying the supercharger. Finally he turned to Stan. "How much testing will be required to adjust it?" "It can only be adjusted by running the motor," Stan said and did not smile. "I should say the plane could be ready for flight by afternoon." "You will run it that long?"
"But I have had general instructions on the new dual supercharger." Stan spoke slowly. "You might, perhaps, be able to suggest repairs for one that is partly destroyed?" Domber asked eagerly. "I have patched together some badly hashed ships," Stan answered. Domber rubbed his hands together. "I think we shall have a very pleasant time working upon a P-51," he said.
The radio had been stripped out of the ship along with every other instrument not absolutely necessary to test flight. Domber had only wanted to learn about the supercharger. His egotism in believing everyone else was dull-witted compared to himself had saved Stan. Over the estuary of the Rhine River Stan met his first flak.
He was afraid that if he fitted that valve into place the Mustang would purr like a cat. He was now convinced that the Germans had had all of their trouble with the air mixture and the pressure intake. His instructions on the new machine had been very detailed on these points. They were the secrets of the new supercharger.
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